Soft light lit the room with a warm ambiance as low murmurs of conversation filled the room. Alex Popov strolled among the guests as they admired the paintings on display. The event at the Leicah Community Art Gallery featured numerous paintings depicting Native Americans from the Oregon region. Alex himself had anonymously funded the event out of his own pocket for a very specific reason. It allowed him to invite a particular guest so they could speak to face to face. Shura, his sister and bodyguard had advised heavily against this, but as usual, he got what he wanted. And in a few moments he spotted his quarry.
Jonathan Lee stared at a painting depicting a meeting between members of the Paiute Tribe and French fur trappers, his dark eyes studying the brush strokes. Being a distinguished Native American, it made sense to invite him to participate in the opening ceremony. Next to him a younger sergeant, stood fidgeting with his police crucifix. The Art Gallery lay within Oldtown and cops never went through Kulza territory alone. Despite being a formal event, both still wore uniforms and their sidearms.
“Ah Captain Lee, what an honor.” Alex said his smooth voice layered in velvet and his trademark toothy smile glinting in the light. Both officers turned. Jonathan showed no change in expression but the sergeant tensed, his hand reaching instinctively for his firearm. Shura stepped forward, clicking her tongue and waving her finger at him, ornate brass knuckles glinted on her hand.
“Stand down sergeant, we don’t want any trouble.” Jonathan said. Alex’s smile widened at the older officer
“Of course Captain, neither do we, we’re merely here to chat.” Shura and the sergeant still stared at each other, their bodies tense and waiting. “I’ve always admired you Captain, 26 years of experience and still out on the streets fighting. I’m surprised you still find it necessary to risk your life.”
“I’ll do what I have to until the job is done.” Jonathan said, his deep resonating voice contrasting against Alex’s light and softer tone. Alex waved his hand nonchalantly.
“Absolutely, you have a job to do saving this wretched city from scum like us, I mean it’s not like we pay for public services, or provide jobs, or fund culture centers like this one. No no, we are all just complete degenerates aren’t we sis.” Alex’s smile never faded but his gaze hardened as he looked into Jonathon’s dark eyes. “No, why should the city care about it’s citizens or their well being when they can give the police more money. Who needs healthcare or schools when military level equipment for traffic cops are more important.” The smile was turning into a sneer now. Jonathan kept his expression still, but his eyes were narrowing as he said,
“What you say may be true, but don’t act all innocent Popov, your money wasn’t earned honestly, you gained it by exploiting those you thought were weaker and killing anyone who said otherwise. One good deed doesn’t undo everything else.” Alex almost rolled his eyes at this,
“Ah yes, because morality is always so black and white. When no one is working together, someone’s got to step in and take charge. We pulled this city together, Brookhaven was almost bankrupt because your government doesn’t even know how to fill potholes properly. And you say one good deed doesn’t undo a bad, but what about all those bad things your own officers have done in the name of so called, justice.” The sergeant tensed in anger at this, his hand still twitching near his holster, the other anxiously rubbing his crucifix. “He knows what I’m talking about,” Alex said, “All those corrupt officials, taking bribes, street side executions, racial profiling, forgery of evidence I could go on.”
“Those are few and far between,” Jonathan said, his voice remained calm, but Alex could sense tension in his fingers. “We stomp them out just as we’d stomp out any other criminal.”
“But like they say, a few bad apples spoils the bunch, I’m sure you know what the people of the city say about their defenders of justice. Overfunded, corrupt, incompetent. In fact, I hear more news stories about police fuck ups than I hear of our own criminal wrongdoings. How many innocents died in that crossfire last week? Two? And one was only a child I think. And how many criminals did you actually capture? None right?” He laughed at this, a cold and high laugh, not suiting his smooth voice. Even Shura with her stoic demeanor smiled at this. The sergeant’s forehead was beaded with sweat and his shoulders shook with the tension. Jonathan’s expression was now visibly angry, his pose seemed ready to lunge at Alex. Exactly what he wanted to happen.
“Your scum is the reason this city fell apart, just because you throw your money around doesn’t make you any more than the criminal snake you are.” Jonathan growled through his teeth.
“Well maybe you should show everyone how righteous you really are. A criminal snake am I?” Alex leaned forward slightly, layering his next words with his mesmerizing charm, his gaze focusing on Jonathan’s eyes. “Why don’t you show the world the meaning of justice, shoot me, here, in this crowded room. Killing me might even save your city, prove to Brookhaven their cops still have balls.” But before his charm could take an effect on the captain, the younger officer wrenched his pistol out of his holster and fired at Alex. The force of the round made him stumble as his ears rang with the shot. Screams came through the tinnitus and he heard the crunch of bone followed by a strangled cry. Shura must have seen to the officer. He felt her hand take his as she dragged him through the crowd rushing for the doors. He’d been shot before but never at that close range, the round may have even gone through his suit this time.
“That was stupid,” Shura said, her disapproving tone sounding distant through his ringing ears, “West 33rd is the closest clinic from here, come on.”
“Yes, that was pretty stupid wasn’t it.” he said laughing “I guess the captain can keep his reputation for now, but I’ll break him. Some day.”
Soft light lit the room with a warm ambiance as low murmurs of conversation filled the room. Alex Popov strolled among the guests as they admired the paintings on display. The event at the Leicah Community Art Gallery featured numerous paintings depicting Native Americans from the Oregon region. Alex himself had anonymously funded the event out of his own pocket for a very specific reason. It allowed him to invite a particular guest so they could speak to face to face. Shura, his sister and bodyguard had advised heavily against this, but as usual, he got what he wanted. And in a few moments he spotted his quarry.
Jonathan Lee stared at a painting depicting a meeting between members of the Paiute Tribe and French fur trappers, his dark eyes studying the brush strokes. Being a distinguished Native American, it made sense to invite him to participate in the opening ceremony. Next to him a younger sergeant, stood fidgeting with his police crucifix. The Art Gallery lay within Oldtown and cops never went through Kulza territory alone. Despite being a formal event, both still wore uniforms and their sidearms.
“Ah Captain Lee, what an honor.” Alex said his smooth voice layered in velvet and his trademark toothy smile glinting in the light. Both officers turned. Jonathan showed no change in expression but the sergeant tensed, his hand reaching instinctively for his firearm. Shura stepped forward, clicking her tongue and waving her finger at him, ornate brass knuckles glinted on her hand.
“Stand down sergeant, we don’t want any trouble.” Jonathan said. Alex’s smile widened at the older officer
“Of course Captain, neither do we, we’re merely here to chat.” Shura and the sergeant still stared at each other, their bodies tense and waiting. “I’ve always admired you Captain, 26 years of experience and still out on the streets fighting. I’m surprised you still find it necessary to risk your life.”
“I’ll do what I have to until the job is done.” Jonathan said, his deep resonating voice contrasting against Alex’s light and softer tone. Alex waved his hand nonchalantly.
“Absolutely, you have a job to do saving this wretched city from scum like us, I mean it’s not like we pay for public services, or provide jobs, or fund culture centers like this one. No no, we are all just complete degenerates aren’t we sis.” Alex’s smile never faded but his gaze hardened as he looked into Jonathon’s dark eyes. “No, why should the city care about it’s citizens or their well being when they can give the police more money. Who needs healthcare or schools when military level equipment for traffic cops are more important.” The smile was turning into a sneer now. Jonathan kept his expression still, but his eyes were narrowing as he said,
“What you say may be true, but don’t act all innocent Popov, your money wasn’t earned honestly, you gained it by exploiting those you thought were weaker and killing anyone who said otherwise. One good deed doesn’t undo everything else.” Alex almost rolled his eyes at this,
“Ah yes, because morality is always so black and white. When no one is working together, someone’s got to step in and take charge. We pulled this city together, Brookhaven was almost bankrupt because your government doesn’t even know how to fill potholes properly. And you say one good deed doesn’t undo a bad, but what about all those bad things your own officers have done in the name of so called, justice.” The sergeant tensed in anger at this, his hand still twitching near his holster, the other anxiously rubbing his crucifix. “He knows what I’m talking about,” Alex said, “All those corrupt officials, taking bribes, street side executions, racial profiling, forgery of evidence I could go on.”
“Those are few and far between,” Jonathan said, his voice remained calm, but Alex could sense tension in his fingers. “We stomp them out just as we’d stomp out any other criminal.”
“But like they say, a few bad apples spoils the bunch, I’m sure you know what the people of the city say about their defenders of justice. Overfunded, corrupt, incompetent. In fact, I hear more news stories about police fuck ups than I hear of our own criminal wrongdoings. How many innocents died in that crossfire last week? Two? And one was only a child I think. And how many criminals did you actually capture? None right?” He laughed at this, a cold and high laugh, not suiting his smooth voice. Even Shura with her stoic demeanor smiled at this. The sergeant’s forehead was beaded with sweat and his shoulders shook with the tension. Jonathan’s expression was now visibly angry, his pose seemed ready to lunge at Alex. Exactly what he wanted to happen.
“Your scum is the reason this city fell apart, just because you throw your money around doesn’t make you any more than the criminal snake you are.” Jonathan growled through his teeth.
“Well maybe you should show everyone how righteous you really are. A criminal snake am I?” Alex leaned forward slightly, layering his next words with his mesmerizing charm, his gaze focusing on Jonathan’s eyes. “Why don’t you show the world the meaning of justice, shoot me, here, in this crowded room. Killing me might even save your city, prove to Brookhaven their cops still have balls.” But before his charm could take an effect on the captain, the younger officer wrenched his pistol out of his holster and fired at Alex. The force of the round made him stumble as his ears rang with the shot. Screams came through the tinnitus and he heard the crunch of bone followed by a strangled cry. Shura must have seen to the officer. He felt her hand take his as she dragged him through the crowd rushing for the doors. He’d been shot before but never at that close range, the round may have even gone through his suit this time.
“That was stupid,” Shura said, her disapproving tone sounding distant through his ringing ears, “West 33rd is the closest clinic from here, come on.”
“Yes, that was pretty stupid wasn’t it.” he said laughing “I guess the captain can keep his reputation for now, but I’ll break him. Some day.”